


Something About Us

by dicklomatticimmunity



Category: Tron - All Media Types, Tron: Uprising
Genre: Anal Sex, Fuck Or Die, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-07
Updated: 2013-04-07
Packaged: 2017-12-07 19:10:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/752003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dicklomatticimmunity/pseuds/dicklomatticimmunity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been a long time since Tron has seen a 'fuck or die' virus, but when Beck gets infected with one, he has to help his friend.</p><p>Takes place after 'Identity', but before 'Price of Power'.</p><p><b>Author's Note:</b> I understand that kissing is a User thing, but I realized this too late, and couldn't be bothered to change it for this fic. Next time. <3</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something About Us

Tron was busy working, a data pad in his hands, when he heard the _whoosh_ of the door opening behind him.

He turned, expecting trouble, but it was only Beck who appeared in the doorway. Tron frowned; Beck wasn't supposed to return for more training for another cycle at least.

Beck walked towards him, and as he came closer, Tron became increasingly uneasy. Beck's circuits were glowing a purple-pinkish hue, almost blinding in their intensity. Beck also walked with purpose, as though he _intended_ to be here, unannounced, unscheduled, and yet Beck remained silent, saying nothing, as though Tron should have known he was coming.

"Beck?" Tron put the data pad down on the nearby desk, then started walking towards the program. "You alright?"

Beck froze, now about thirty feet from where he was. Tron continued to approach Beck, worry prevailing over caution.

"Hey," he said, trying to get Beck's attention. "What happened?"

Beck's reaction was instantaneous. Tron saw Beck tense, and he paused, but before he could prepare to defend himself, Beck rushed towards him, then flung himself forward.

Tron didn't have enough time to move out of the way. He fell with Beck on top of him, but he wrapped his legs around Beck's and reversed their positions easily. He slid out of the movement quickly, but even so, he barely avoided a sweep of Beck's leg, intended to take his feet out from under him.

Beck never gave him any chances after that. He had trained his student well, it seemed. Beck was relentless, matching his moves just as he'd taught him to so many cycles ago. It occurred to Tron that if he didn't find a way to put Beck down, they would go until one of them was too exhausted to keep fighting.

"Beck," he repeated, trying to reach Beck as he crouched low. "What happened to you?"

Beck, who had one leg drawn back in preparation for a kick, stared at him, confusion in his expression. A moment later, he relaxed his stance, but his hands were clenched into fists, and his whole body was shaking, as though he was fighting for control of his own body.

"I was at a bar with my friends," Beck said, his voice strained. "I had a few drinks, and then..." He gestured down towards himself, to the circuits that glowed brighter than the white tiles he stood on. He looked up at Tron. "All I could think about was... _you_."

Tron narrowed his eyes. There was a husky quality to that last word, and it suddenly dawned on him what had happened to the Renegade.

"A virus," he thought aloud. Someone had contaminated the energy Beck had drunk, and now he had a virus.

And if Beck had been at a bar, the problem could be much bigger than just one bad drink. The same virus could have affected several other unsuspecting programs. The whole bar could be infected, or worse.

One thing at a time, Tron told himself as he looked directly at Beck, staring directly into those dark, too-wide eyes. "Did you notice anyone else being affected?"

"No," Beck said, but there was shame in his voice. "But I didn't look that hard. I... wanted to find you. _You_ were all that mattered to me."

Tron could see it now. There was a hunger in Beck's eyes, a need that wanted satisfying, and Beck had come to _him_ , not one of his other friends or another program Beck might have wanted that was at the bar.

Before Tron could follow that chain of logic, Beck leaped forward. This time, he managed to step aside. He grabbed Beck's upper arm as the program went past him, and then he pulled, turning with the motion so he could reach for Beck's identity disc. His fingers closed around it, and he slipped it free of its dock before releasing Beck, letting momentum carry Beck past him.

Beck spun on one heel until he was facing Tron, then reached out to seize the disc. Tron backed away, pulling it out of Beck's reach, but Beck rushed at him again.

"Beck!" Tron shouted, but Beck either didn't hear him or ignored his words entirely. Beck outstretched both hands and slammed them into his shoulders. He went flying, soaring through empty space until he collided with a wall. He grunted, pain making his circuits flash as he collapsed into a sitting position, still holding Beck's disc in one hand.

Beck closed in on him without hesitation, straddling his hips with his calves and thighs. Beck held his shoulders against the wall, his grip strong and unwavering. Tron tried to bend a knee, but Beck was too close for any kind of lifting maneuver to be productive.

Beck was breathing hard, and his circuits flared with a surge of energy. A shock of sensation flooded his system, and he realized that Beck's legs were pressing against the circuits on his hips, connecting directly with the circuits on Beck's thighs. Anything Beck felt, he felt too, and if anything could be said about how Beck was feeling, it definitely wasn't unpleasant.

 _It's still a virus_ , he told himself sternly. He opened his mouth to speak, but Beck's lips were suddenly on his, insistent yet gentle. He tried to pull away, but Beck wrapped an arm around his lower back and closed the remaining distance between them, their circuits pressing against each other, blazing bright with energy. The surge of hot, liquid pleasure that rushed through him nearly made him drop Beck's disc, but he tightened his hold just before it slipped from his grasp.

Beck attempted to deepen the kiss, but he resisted, not because he wanted to tell Beck no, but because he didn't know if Beck was fully aware of his actions.

Beck pulled away, and Tron wanted to wince. Beck's expression was sad, _hurt_. It wounded him that he had been the cause of such pain.

"I need to look at your code," he said, before Beck could start voicing any doubts or questions. "You've got a virus. I need to get it out of your system."

Beck shook his head as confusion replaced the sadness. "Virus," he said distantly, as though barely comprehending the word.

Tron frowned, but before he could say anything more, one of Beck's hands slid away from his shoulder. Beck's fingers trailed down the center of his suit, derezzing a thick line of pixels, exposing circuits and bare skin.

He put the distraction to good use. He wrapped an arm around Beck, then turned, forcing Beck to the floor beneath him. He slid his legs out from between Beck's, then used them to pin Beck down while he put his free hand on Beck's shoulder.

"Focus, Beck," he said, his voice tense, low. "You're not thinking clearly."

"Don't want to," Beck replied between heavy breaths. He slipped his arm from around Tron, then grabbed Tron's wrist and pulled, hard. "Just... want... you."

"Beck!" Tron shouted, digging his hand into Beck's suit, tearing at black pixels. "Think about what you're doing. Think about it!"

Beck stared up at him, eyes wide. He blinked, and when he did, some of the hunger seemed to vanish. Beck's grip lightened, and Tron rose, massaging his wrist where Beck's fingers had dug in. He put some distance between himself and Beck, enough so that Beck wouldn't be able to pounce on him if the program saw an opening and decided to take the opportunity.

Surprisingly, Beck stayed where he was, apparently content to lie down and think about what was going on.

Tron laid Beck's disc flat in his hands. A hologram of Beck's face appeared, and he poked it, bringing up the code interface. He saw where the problem was almost immediately, and he worked, fixing the bits of code that had turned bright pink in a sea of dim green.

As he repaired the last section of damaged code, though, a wave of pink flooded through the code he had just modified. He frowned, working to restore the repaired code, but once he had fixed the last strand, it reverted to its virus-stricken state, and worse, the virus consuming more code.

 _No_ , he thought, eyes widening in shock. He could barely see it amidst the damaged code, but there was a bit, almost directly in the center of the sea of pink, that was blinking.

And it was _red_.

He touched it, hoping to fix it, but instead, the surrounding code started blinking red, too.

So that was it, then. This was a new strain of a virus he had dealt with hundreds of cycles before. It was more resilient, and it couldn't be repaired by the methods he knew. The only way to fix this was to take his time and repair Beck's code bit by bit. He could only hope that he would find _something_ that weakened the virus instead of spreading it. It would take half a cycle at least, he was sure.

But Beck didn't have that long. As he stood there thinking, code adjacent to the infected sections went from green to pink. Pink bits turned red, too, though if it was any consolation, the code that was going critical seemed to spread less quickly.

He repaired all but one bit of the non-critical damaged code, and that, at the very least, seemed to work. Bits were still turning pink, then red, but the pace was much slower than it had been a moment ago. It would have to do for now. He walked back over to Beck, trying to keep the panic out of his expression. It was the last thing Beck needed to see. 

"Sit up," he said, not quite a command, but not a request either. Beck complied without a word, and Tron bent down before slotting the disc into place.

He knew it when the disc finished synching with Beck's system. Beck started trembling, more than he had been before, but the intense glow of his circuits dimmed to something less powerful. Tron wasn't sure if that was a good sign, but he had no time to worry about it. This was the most lucid Beck was going to be until the virus was gone, and if he couldn't repair Beck's code, there was only one way this could end well.

"What's happening to me?" Beck said, his tone hushed, laced with subtle panic. He looked up at Tron. There was nothing ravenous about Beck's expression now; fear and concern had taken over.

"You have a virus," Tron said, stating what he had known since Beck first walked in. "Unfortunately, my attempts to eradicate it were unsuccessful."

"What?" Beck said, incredulous. " _You_ couldn't fix it?"

"No," Tron confirmed.

"Then who can?" Beck said, his tone more panicked than before.

"Easy, Beck," Tron said. He knelt down and put a hand on Beck's shoulder. "Do you know what the virus does?"

"Yeah," Beck said, looking down and away from him. "It... made me want you. I..." He swallowed. "I wanted... _you_. To do things with you."

"Are you sure about that?" Tron asked, skepticism in his tone. "Did it make you want me, or did it amplify something in you that was already present?"

Beck looked confused, but it turned to understanding a moment later. He looked down again. "Well... I've always admired you. And..." he shrugged. "Sure, I've thought about... you and me, but I knew you would never see it like that, so I never said anything."

Tron nodded. If Beck wanted to be here, that was all that mattered.

"Beck," he said, infusing his voice with as much calm as he could. "I don't know how to repair the damaged code. If I had more time, I could find the virus' source and eliminate it." He paused, then squeezed Beck's shoulder more firmly. "I don't think you have that long."

Beck swallowed. "So... what do we do?"

Tron hesitated, but only for a moment. There was an alternative way to get rid of the virus, one that didn't involve poking and prodding at code, and if Beck was willing -- _truly_ willing -- then there was no reason for him to turn Beck's advances down.

 _No_ , he told himself. _You can't let him die._

"I don't let you infect other programs," he said. "And you do whatever is necessary to purge the virus from your system."

Beck frowned. "You mean -- "

"Yes," Tron interrupted. "That's exactly what I mean."

Beck was silent for a moment. "Do _you_ want this?"

Tron didn't hesitate this time. "Beck, you're my friend." He stood, then offered his hand to Beck. Beck took it, and he pulled the program to his feet. "Friends don't let friends spread viruses. They take care of each other."

Beck nodded. Apparently, Beck was satisfied with his answer.

"What about you?" Beck asked. "Won't the virus spread to you?"

"I'm a security program," Tron said, a hint of derision in his tone. "And I'm older than you. If it does affect me, we'll deal with it then."

Beck looked skeptical, but then his circuits flashed, the brightness from before returning with a vengeance. Beck took a deep breath, looking away for a moment before looking back at Tron, and the gleam in his eyes was ravenous again, starved.

"I don't want to hurt you," Beck said, still holding his hand. If anything, Beck's grip had tightened, as though Beck didn't believe that he was taking the matter seriously.

"You won't," Tron said with absolute certainty. "You're not that kind of program."

And then, to make sure that Beck started acting rather than talking, he turned, pulling Beck with him. He walked past his desk and headed for the wall opposite the one he'd been pinned against moments before.

"Where are we going?" Beck asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and anticipation.

"To my bedroom," Tron replied. "If we're going to do this, we're going to do it right."

As he stepped closer to the far corner of the room, the floor tiles beneath his boots lit up, turning white, then blue. Streams of code rose from them, spilling into the air before rushing to take form, building furniture before constructing walls that hid the contents of the room beyond. Finally, the door rezzed into existence, a black security pad standing out against the white walls.

Tron pressed his palm flat against the pad. Strands of red code flowed over the panel's surface, flooding the panel until it turned green a moment later. There was an affirmative beep as the door slid away, withdrawing into the wall.

He turned to make sure Beck was still with him, then pulled the program inside. The door slid back into place behind them.

~*~*~

Tron had kept himself distant from others, even before the coup. Sure, there had been plenty of interested programs -- Yori had been foremost among them -- but having a steady relationship wasn't possible. He was a security program, first and foremost, and he couldn't take actions that would compromise his purpose.

That wasn't to say that he didn't have experience. He'd been intimate with programs of both genders (and one program that had been both), but it had never been more than casual. Even his relationship with Yori, the partner with whom he had been with the longest, had been brief. Relationships had never been for him; they jeopardized his ability to protect the Grid, and after the coup, he couldn't afford to let the wrong program know he still existed -- and that he was weakened, to boot.

That's why he had recruited Beck. Revealing himself to Beck that very first time may have been a gamble, but it was one he'd felt confident he would win. He hadn't been wrong, either; Beck took up the mantle he'd given him, becoming the Renegade, going out into the Grid and doing the work he was incapable of doing on his own.

And now, as Beck pushed him down onto the bed, his suit half-derezzed, black pixels disappearing as Beck's fingers trailed over his chest, he wondered if this wasn't a serious mistake. Things would be different after this, he knew; being intimate with someone almost always changed the dynamic between the involved parties.

And yet, he didn't regret his decision. Beck would die if he didn't help him in whatever way he could. He had already risked his life once for Beck, when he had set out to retrieve Beck's identity disc from a thief. Revealing his face to Beck, at that critical moment when Beck's memories had vanished, had been a calculated risk, but he had taken it knowing that if the Black Guard took Beck away to be derezzed, he would lose the revolution, and worse, he would lose the program he had grown to trust.

He had told Beck that the program was his friend, and he had meant it.

"Tron." Beck's voice drew him back to the present, and he realized that the entire front of his suit was missing. Beck's fingers brushed over the scars on his chest and shoulders, and surprisingly, he felt very little pain from the program's touch. He watched Beck's eyes, dark and wide, taking him in as though intending to map his skin by both sight and touch.

Tron was relieved that Beck seemed unperturbed by the mess of dead and dying pixels. If anything, Beck was curious, splaying his fingertips wider, exploring wherever he could touch. Tron took the opportunity to glance down between them, and he realized that Beck was almost completely suited, clothed in dark pixels that only enhanced the super-brightness of his circuits.

Determined to not be the only naked program in the room, Tron reached down and started derezzing Beck's suit. He spread his fingertips over the backs of Beck's shoulder blades, then dragged his fingers lightly down Beck's back, all the way down to the tops of Beck's thighs. He paused for a moment, then smirked as he pressed his thumb into the circuit on one of Beck's hips.

Beck cried out, circuits flaring violet as his fingertips dug into Tron's shoulder. Tron gasped, the circuit on his shoulder suddenly blazing with white light as pleasure rushed through his system, catching him off guard with its intensity. He had almost forgotten how good it felt to share energy like this, but now was not the time to indulge. Beck was going to die, and he couldn't lose his focus on that.

Beck reached between them and brushed his thumb over the largest of his scars, the one just to the right of his center circuits, and the surge of sensation was so violent that, for the briefest of moments, his own circuits glowed with violet light. He let out a quiet moan as he arched beneath Beck, fingers digging into Beck's hips, into the circuits, and that only made Beck move with him, grinding their hips together and making his erection rub against Beck's through two-too-many layers of suit.

"Tron," Beck gasped, a desperate tone to his voice. " _Please_."

Tron made quick work of the rest of Beck's suit, pixels giving way to bare skin and circuits. Beck did the same for him and then some, exposing his erection. The virus must have taken a greater hold on Beck, because all interest in his scars was gone, replaced with devious intent as Beck thrust against him.

Tron reached out towards the small end table next to the bed, but he realized that, in his haste to construct the bedroom, he had forgotten to put a packet of lube in the table's drawer. He frowned and looked at Beck, hoping against all hope that the program had some with him.

Fortunately, Beck seemed to have thought ahead. Beck reached down and withdrew a small packet from the holster on his still-suited calf, then tore it open with his teeth. A small amount of clear gel pooled from the opening, and he smiled.

"Knew I'd need it some cycle," Beck said as he turned his head and spat out the torn end of the packet.

Relieved, Tron reached down between them and began to derezz the suit around Beck's erection. He did his best to avoid touching the circuits that started in Beck's hips and went down his legs, afraid that the contact would overload Beck, and now that they'd come this far, there was no reason to not go all the way. He took the lube from Beck and carefully poured some onto his palm, then reached for Beck's cock.

"Tron," Beck moaned, head hanging as the program stared down between them, watching as he closed his fingers around Beck's cock and began to stroke slowly, his eyes on Beck, gazing into those dark eyes. Beck's circuits blazed, now a bright shade of pink, and he knew that the virus was taking greater hold of his friend.

"Please," Beck said, almost a beg, as he thrust against Tron's palm.

Tron swallowed, fighting through his own lust-clouded thoughts as he pulled his hand away. Beck whimpered in protest, but Tron ignored the sound as he pressed the small foil packet into Beck's hand.

"Your turn," he said, hoping his intent was clear. There was no way he was going into this without being lubed himself.

Beck hesitated for a brief moment. He then grabbed a pillow from the top of the bed.

Tron looked at Beck, an eyebrow raised as he wondered what Beck was doing.

"I want to see you," Beck explained, pulling the pillow down until it pressed against Tron's hip.

Tron felt something flutter in his circuits at Beck's words. He accepted the gesture, digging his heels into the bed before lifting his hips. Beck pushed the pillow beneath him, and he settled onto it, letting it cushion his weight.

Beck took his time, though it was obvious that his control was fraying faster than before. He forced himself to relax as Beck penetrated him with a lube-coated finger, the sensation unusual but not unwelcome. It had been a while since he'd felt like this, and it was something he had never expected he would experience ever again.

His fingers curled into the sheets beneath him, scrunching up the light cotton. When he was ready, he spread his legs wider, then dragged a still-suited foot against the back of Beck's calf, making the circuit there ripple with energy.

Beck inhaled sharply, then withdrew his fingers and settled them onto Tron's hip. He reached up with his other hand to stroke Tron's cheek. The deeply intimate gesture caught Tron off guard, and he felt his breath catch as Beck slid into him smoothly, in to the hilt barely a second later. Tron couldn't help but tighten around Beck, lost in sensation as he wrapped his arms around Beck, pulling the program close enough to press their circuits together.

"Tron," Beck whispered, barely audible over his heavy breathing. "I -- "

Tron shut him up with a kiss and a rock of his hips, urging Beck to continue. Beck moaned and began thrusting slowly, and Tron wondered belatedly if this was Beck's first time. He knew that Beck had friends, but Beck had never mentioned having a partner.

The train of thought didn't survive long. Tron could feel the energy building between them, and spots of bright violet were starting to bleed through his closed eyes. His entire body thrummed with the impending overload, and he fought to hang on, fingertips clutching at Beck's shoulders and back, dissolving any suit that might have survived his earlier removal.

It was Beck who broke the kiss with a cry of ecstasy. Tron opened his eyes, and he could see that Beck's eyes were half-closed, heavy with lust. Beck's thrusts were shorter, harsher, and Tron knew that Beck was close to overload, and he was going to be right there with him.

"Tron," Beck gasped as he moved a hand to one of Tron's shoulders. He then wrapped the fingers of his other hand around Tron's cock and started stroking, the rhythm erratic, almost in synch with his thrusts. "Oh Users, _Tron_."

All of the muscles in Tron's body seemed to tense at once as the overload became too much for his circuits to bear. He slid a hand between them and planted his palm on the center of Beck's chest, right over the circuit, and the resulting moan was inaudible over the sound of energy rushing through him.

"Beck," he moaned, clenching around Beck's cock as his vision went white with pleasure. Bliss swept through him, crashing on him like an enormous wave. Beck let out his own cry a breath later, and the rush began again, pulsing through him until it dwindled into nothingness.

Tron couldn't prevent himself from going into sleep mode, but he wrapped an arm around Beck, pulling the program close to him before he shut down.

~*~*~

When Tron woke, there was a calm, steady voice echoing in the room.

_System overload. Please restore energy to the main power supply._

Tron blinked the sleep from his eyes, then looked around him. The soft, white glow of the room was gone, replaced with near-complete darkness.

The voice spoke again, and Tron knew that he would become increasingly annoyed with it until he did what the voice told him to do. He tried to get up, but a heavy weight prevented him from moving.

Right. Beck must have fallen asleep on top of him. He groaned and rolled onto his side, letting the pillow slide out from beneath his hips. Beck was still inside him, and he couldn't resist a shudder as he remembered the energy that had overcome them.

The light emitted by their circuits was barely enough to see the program by. He could see that Beck was still mostly naked, but his circuits had faded to their normal greenish-blue hue. Tron sighed, and he allowed himself a moment of relief.

He'd saved Beck.

He decided that he should check Beck's disc, just to make sure the virus was completely gone. He reached around Beck and removed his disc carefully, doing his best to not disturb the sleeping program. He shifted then, letting Beck slip out of him before rolling onto his back and sitting up. He lifted the disc between his hands and laid it flat, then waited as the hologram of Beck's face flowed upward.

It seemed that his plan had worked; there were no traces of the virus in Beck's code. Satisfied, he slid the disc into place on Beck's back. Then, because he hadn't been completely certain about being immune to the virus, he removed his own disc and examined his own code. As he'd expected, there was no trace of the virus.

He thought about that for a moment. He'd taken another gamble, risked his own life to save Beck's a second time. It was true that Beck would have certainly died, but if _he'd_ been infected as a result, would he have been as gentle as Beck had been? Would he have become something else altogether? Would Beck survive, if that happened?

He replaced his disc. In the end, it didn't matter. Beck was alive. _That_ was what was most important. He looked down at Beck, then put a hand on the program's bare shoulder.

"I won't be far," he said. He ruffled Beck's hair, then rose. The voice was definitely in the _very annoying_ range now, and he intended to quiet it before it could rouse Beck.

He hoped that the power outage had only been a local effect, and that the entire building hadn't gone out. If the latter was true, they probably didn't have enough time left to escape.

~*~*~

Fortunately, the outage had only affected this floor of the building. Tron restored power, and soon, the room was bathed in white light, like it usually was. It was unlikely that anyone outside had noticed the power failure, and he was going to go with that line of thought until it was proven otherwise.

After he restored power, he rezzed his bathroom into existence, right next to the bedroom, and stepped inside. He used the shower and tried to think.

Tron wondered who had spiked Beck's drink, and why Beck would have been chosen, out of dozens that must have been at the same bar. Did someone know he was the Renegade? Had Beck been followed back here? Or was it intended for someone else, and been given to Beck by accident?

But that wasn't the most pressing issue at the moment. True, the possibility of a virus-dealing program was a threat to be concerned about, but for now, he was more concerned with how things were going to change for him and Beck. He could tell himself that a relationship was counterintuitive to his directives, but it was possible that that was no longer true. There was no denying that he and Beck had a special friendship, and now it had evolved into... what? Beck had said that interest in him already existed, and he believed Beck, even if the virus could have been coloring his words.

So where did _he_ stand?

Tron stepped out of the shower and reached for a towel from the nearby rack. He remembered how good it had felt to be with Beck, sharing energy, pulsing and rippling through him until overload was inevitable. Now that he'd experienced that rush, he was hesitant to let it go.

He dried himself off quickly. When he walked into his bedroom again, he was wearing his black suit. He would see what Beck had to say before he came to any decision.

Beck stirred as he walked in, and he sat down on the edge of the bed. Both of them had a decision to make, and each of them had equal say in it.

"Hey," Tron said. Beck blinked his eyes open, and Tron smiled. "Feeling better now?"

"Yeah," Beck said, rubbing sleep from his eyes before sitting up. His expression turned sheepish. "I guess I owe you."

"No, you don't," Tron said. "I didn't want to lose you."

Beck looked even more sheepish, but he nodded, and his expression became serious. "I guess we should find whoever did this to me and take care of them."

"Not yet." Tron looked at Beck seriously. He recalled a time when Beck had told him, 'this is the part where you're supposed to cheer your friend up', and he had told Beck that he would rather focus on finding Beck's disc. The reversal of such thinking made him pause, but he didn't dwell on it. "We have something else to talk about first."

Beck tensed. "Right." He returned Tron's gaze. "You... already know how I feel. Like I said, I never thought you'd be open to the idea, so I never brought it up. Besides," he shrugged. "You're my friend, but you're also my mentor. And..." Beck looked down, away from him. "I'm probably not your type."

Tron frowned. He wasn't sure he'd ever looked for a specific 'type' in a partner; if a program was a friend, and someone he could trust as well, that was good enough for him. The concern was real to Beck, though, so he considered his words carefully.

"You're right," he said. "I've never thought about you like that, until now." He paused, thinking his decision over for a moment, then continued. "But I'm willing to give it a chance. I can't promise anything more than that."

Beck's eyes widened as he looked at Tron. "Really?"

"Yes," Tron said. He rose. "But like I said, no promises, other than that."

Beck nodded, then stood. As he did so, his suit restored itself, black pixels forming next to one another until the suit was whole again. "I'll take it."

"Alright," Tron said, turning to go, but before he could take a step, Beck was walking towards him. Beck hugged him, and he returned the embrace. Relief seemed to flood through him at the contact, and he found himself relaxing, letting go of tension he didn't even known he'd had.

It hit him, then. Beck could have been derezzed an hour ago. Beck's pixels could be scattered over the floor, pink cubes against white tiles. Beck could have gone home with another program, infected them, and then the virus would have spread. He could have tried to work on Beck's code, watching as bit by bit went critical until Beck's code was a mess of red.

Instead, Beck was whole. Beck was alive. The Renegade would live to fight another day.

They released each other at the same time.

"Hey," Beck said, his tone back to its usual liveliness. "Will I ever top again?"

Tron stared at Beck for a moment, then chuckled quietly. He gave Beck a light pat on the shoulder.

"If you want to top, you'll have to earn it," he said, almost smiling. He turned towards the exit and started walking.

"Earn it?" Beck asked, following behind him. "How?"

Tron couldn't help the smirk that took over his expression. It had definitely been Beck's first time. "I'm sure you'll find out, if you're really motivated," he said, turning to Beck before winking.

He heard Beck sigh behind him as the bedroom deconstructed itself, streams of code flowing back into the floor before vanishing completely. He paused, then turned to look at Beck again as he gestured towards the bathroom.

"You can shower if you like," he said.

"I can do that later," Beck replied. "We should find out if anyone else has been infected first."

"Alright." Tron nodded, accepting Beck's plan. "Which bar were you at?"

Beck gave him all the details, and soon, they were both riding lightcycles, heading towards Argon City. As they rode, Tron wondered if a relationship between him and Beck could really work. He liked Beck, but was that enough? He knew Beck's innocence was gone, shattered into pixels when his friend Bodhi had been derezzed, but Beck still had his humor, and he didn't want to take that away from him.

Then again, he was the only friend Beck could talk to about being the Renegade. He knew it pained Beck to keep the truth from his friends, but Beck did it because it was part of having the job, and the only way to make sure that his identity remained a secret.

He narrowed his eyes and focused. He had promised Beck that he would give a relationship a chance. It wouldn't do for him to go back on his word so soon after making that promise. 

The bar wasn't far from his place. They arrived at it soon enough, and he looked at Beck. Beck was wearing his normal suit, while he had opted for the same disguise he had worn while in pursuit of Beck's identity disc. Beck nodded, and they stood, lightcycles turning into batons as they did so. He slipped his baton into the holster on his thigh, then followed Beck into the bar. They took a long staircase up to a large dance floor, surrounded by booths.

Tron stopped at the top of the stairs, and so did Beck. They looked at one another.

"Find your friends and make sure they aren't hurt," Tron said. "Then come find me."

"What if they're hurt?" Beck asked.

Tron paused. He hadn't considered that possibility. "Bring them to me. If I can't fix their code, then at least we can bring them and their partner somewhere isolated while they work through the virus."

Beck nodded. "Sounds like a plan."

"See you soon," Tron said, and he took a step forward.

Beck's hand closed around his bicep, and he turned, looking at the program.

Beck opened his mouth for a moment, then closed it again. Beck shook his head, then looked up at Tron. "See you."

Tron watched as Beck let go of his arm and went to find his friends. What had Beck wanted to say?

He shook his own head, then stepped into the bar proper. He could worry about it later. Right now, he had programs to protect, and a vicious program to find.


End file.
